


The (Belated) Birthday Crisis

by breeisonfire



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Gen, space bros are go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-11 00:28:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8945377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breeisonfire/pseuds/breeisonfire
Summary: John takes Alan out for his birthday. Everything, as per usual, goes downhill quickly.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So johntracythatsall on tumblr wanted some "John protecting Alan" stuff, and I have no idea what I'm doing, so here you go, here's the first part.
> 
> [Hit up my tumblr](http://drdone.tumblr.com) if you want.

This drink was going to be the death of him.

John didn’t know why the _hell_ he’d taken Gordon’s recommendation for a drink. Gordon wasn’t even _there_. He was back on the island, supposedly resting his sprained ankle, but he _wouldn’t stop_ texting John drink orders.

And John, against his better judgement, had decided to try one.

The thing was, it was Alan’s birthday. Well, that wasn’t true, exactly - Alan’s eighteenth birthday had been a month ago. But due to their job, it was risky for them all to take time off at the same time, so over the past month, each of them had taken a day for just them and Alan. John’s day had originally been planned for two weeks’ previous, but keeping a schedule was difficult - there’d been an increased need for space rescues in the past month, as if the world knew that Alan was now legally an adult and decided to welcome him to adulthood by going _nuts_.

Something probably would have stopped them again that night, except Grandma had put her foot down. She’d won EOS over very early on, so John had been teamed up on and threatened into going to down in the space elevator. He’d reached Tracy Island to find a bewildered Alan waiting for him. Gordon had limped behind them as they’d walked to the pod they were taking, rambling on about the different kinds of drinks and how if they had any questions they could ask him, and after they’d taken off had gotten on the comm and _continued_ until Scott came on, on his way back from a mudslide with Virgil, and told him to shut up.

Gordon had switched to texting, instead, and John was going to block his number at this point.

“What _is_ that?” Alan appeared at the table again, carrying a martini glass with a little umbrella. His own drink was pink and no doubt fruity, and his third, which was slightly concerning. No one had told him if Alan could hold his alcohol or not, and this seemed like an oversight that he should probably correct immediately. For the moment, he seemed pretty steady, despite his lack of experience with alcohol.

John didn’t know _how_ Alan had managed to talk Scott into agreeing to this.

“I really don’t know,” John admitted, staring at the drink. “Gordon called it the Fishbowl. I think it’s hissing at me.”

Alan bent down, putting his chin on the table and looking through the giant bowl. “This looks like it should come with a waiver for you to sign.”

John snorted. “You having fun?”

“Yeah,” Alan said, straightening up. He _looked_ like he was having a good time. John was glad; the past few months had been rough on them all, but on Alan especially. They sometimes forgot he was so much younger than the rest of them. He kept up, but it wore on him. But the happiness on his face was genuine, and he didn’t seem to be _too_ inebriated. Not yet, anyway.

Speaking of.

“I am going to regret this,” John said, took a drink of the Fishbowl.

It was _strong_. John wasn’t really a liquor kind of guy. He preferred wine, or beers. The hard liquor was for Gordon and Kayo, and Scott when he was having a particularly bad day.

And apparently Alan, because he was inspected the Fishbowl again with an intrigued look on his face, even as John tried not to cough. He sniffed it, then made a face.

“There is way too much tequila in that,” he informed John.

“I noticed,” John rasped. Alan grinned at him.

“I’ll get you a glass of water,” he said, and walked towards the bar. He stumbled a little before catching his balance. John tried not to grin and pulled his phone out, swiping away the sixteen text messages from Gordon and opening one to Virgil.

 **John** : How well does Alan hold his alcohol?

He watched Alan talk to the bartender, before a guy next to him caught his attention. John couldn’t make out what they were saying, but from the way Alan grinned, John was pretty sure his baby brother was being flirted with.

Before he could process that, his phone vibrated and he looked down to see Virgil had replied.

 **Virgil:** he does okay. kid gets wicked hangovers though, make sure he drinks some water  
**John:** I think he’s got that covered.

Alan was, in fact, drinking the water that he’d been grabbing for John. The guy he was still talking to didn’t look much older than Alan, with dark skin and dark hair, and as John watched, he said something that made Alan laugh. He then leaned forward, saying something in return, looking at ease.

 **John:** He’s flirting. I think he just got a guy’s number.

He definitely had. The boy was sliding a napkin toward Alan, and Alan pulled it towards him, a surprised look on his face. The boy stood up, leaned in and said something in Alan’s ear, and walked towards the front door.

 **Virgil:** TELL ME EVERYTHING  
**Virgil:** AND ANSWER MY TEXTS YOU ASSHOLE  
**Virgil:** excuse me i have to go throw gordon from tb2

John snorted and shook his head, looking up. Alan was talking to the bartender again, a second glass of water in his hand. He walked back to John, looking somewhat amazed.

“Who was that?” John asked as he accepted the glass of water. Alan turned bright red, and John hide his smile behind his glass.

“No one,” Alan stammered, pulling out his phone. His nose crinkled in confusion as he looked back up. “Why is Virgil asking if I want Gordon’s room?”

John choked on his water.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two, my friends. There will eventually be an actual plot, probably.

John was drunk.

John was very drunk and regretting every single life decision that led up to that point.

Alan was also very drunk. John was about ninety percent certain Scott was ready to fly out to them and kick their asses, because neither of them were in any shape to fly. John wasn’t quite sure what Scott had expected.

No one was available to fly out to get them, either, because Scott was on a mandated twelve-hour rest (Grandma Tracy nearly had a fit when Scott had tried to say he’d go anyway) and Virgil and Kayo were...John didn’t actually know where they were, but he knew they were busy, since Scott had said so sixteen times. Gordon wasn’t allowed to fly until his ankle could actually hold his weight without buckling, and Lady Penelope and Parker were at a dinner with the Prime Minister. Maybe. John couldn’t remember.

John was  _ very  _ drunk.

Grandma Tracy was a godsend. She booked them a room at a nearby hotel and told Scott to shut the hell up. John could hear Gordon laughing in the background the entire call. The regret only grew.

At least Alan was still in good spirits (John winced internally at the pun), though he also seemed to be falling asleep on his feet. It wasn’t particularly helpful. John was pretty sure everyone on the street thought they were idiots as they made their way to the hotel. He was pretty sure they were right.

The hotel was on the smaller side, which John was grateful for as they went inside. He deposited Alan on one of the chairs in the lobby, because he was clearly almost done for. He straightened up, trying to channel his International Rescue dispatch voice, and said, “Reservation for Tracy?”

As if on cue, he heard a crash from behind him and closed his eyes briefly, knowing what he would see. “You alright, Alan?”

“‘M on the floor,” came back. John opened his eyes and gave the manager his best winning smile.

“Sorry about him,” he said. “It’s his birthday and he’s overdone it a bit. He won’t be any trouble.”

The manager was looking over his shoulder at Alan, presumably still on the floor, but she turned back to John relatively quickly and gave him a professional smile. “Of course. Let me look it up.”

Five minutes later, John was supporting Alan to their (thankfully) first floor room. It was smaller than ones they’d gotten on past family vacations, but John didn’t care. He dumped Alan on one of the beds and let himself fall facedown on the other one.

“Should drink water,” Alan mumbled from the other bed. “S’good for you.”

John groaned, just as his phone went off. He pulled it out of his pocket and answered it. “Hello?”

“Uh, John?” Scott sounded confused. “Your voice is really muffled. You okay?”

John groaned again and lifted his face up off the bed. “Relatively.”

“Did you make it to the hotel?” Scott asked.

“You know I know you’ve got EOS tracking our position, right?” John would have rolled his eyes if he hadn’t been sure it would make him dizzy.

“I would never,” Scott said, but he sounded amused.

“Uh-huh,” John said. “You’re supposed to be resting.”

“You’re drunk, you don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“Go get some sleep, Scott,” John said.

“Drink some water, John,” Scott said. “And make sure Alan does, too. Apparently he gets pretty bad hangovers.”

“So I’ve been told,” John said. “Good night.”

“Good luck,” Scott said, and he hung up. John dropped his head back down on the bed. He just wanted to go to sleep, but his bladder was complaining and he needed to take care of that. He pushed himself up and headed to the bathroom.

Alan was already asleep when he came out of the bathroom, still in the same position John had pretty much dropped him in. John sighed. It was a pretty well-known fact in the family that Alan could and would sleep anywhere, comfortable or not, but this was a little ridiculous. Half of his body was just hanging over the side of the bed. His shoes were still on.

He managed to get Alan’s shoes off of him and coax him into moving onto the bed fully. He tucked Alan in, feeling oddly nostalgic. Alan didn’t even seem to notice what was going on, curling into a ball under the covers. John snorted and stumbled back to his own bed. He barely made it under the blankets before he fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I have this headcanon that all of the Tracy bros are pan. I don't know why exactly, but I'm not questioning it.
> 
> Except John. He's the Space Ace.


End file.
